


Home for Christmas

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [94]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee (TV) RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 14:02:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14106942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	Home for Christmas

  
**players only. backdated to December 2013. takes place in Los Angeles, as the boys take a small break in[their honeymoon](https://antony-starr.dreamwidth.org/12177.html).**

_warnings: none_

"This is it," Antony says, waiting for a truck to pass before making the turn into the farm's driveway. "Nice lights." They've been home for a day, laundry done, groceries got in, and now they're hunting for a Christmas tree. Half the farms around Los Angeles only do already cut trees and Antony's promised Stephen he can choose his own, so here they are, ninety minutes away from home for a tree. With an axe and bungee cords in the trunk. Both of which saw much different usage the last time they were put into action.

Stephen's grinning like a kid. He's feeling refreshed after a decent night's sleep in his own bed, and he has his first Christmas with Antony - as a married couple - to plan, and enjoy. "This is so fucking cool," he peers out of the window at the trees as Antony takes them down to the car park. "We did this when I was really small, but then Mom moved to fake trees, and since I've left home..." he trails off, not needing to elaborate. "It's going to be amazing."

"Just remember, we're paying by the foot," Antony teases, pulling the car into a spot beside the barn. "And you'd better leave room for the star."

Stephen snorts his amusement and then leaning in he risks a quick kiss to Antony's cheek. "I have my Star right here," he murmurs before pulling back, his blue eyes dancing with amusement and love. "C'mon, let's go get us a tree."

Antony laughs. He grabs the axe from the trunk and a length of rope and nods for Stephen to lead the way. "The guy I talked to said the larger ones are deeper in."

Stephen tugs his jacket closer around himself and sets off. He's got a lovely sense of peace going on right now, the immediate excitement over the wedding has waned leaving with it a warm feeling of contentment. "So I'm thinking as tall as us plus our arms length? So we won't need a ladder, because that _is_ excessive."

Antony's fine with that but he knows how important this Christmas is to Stephen and he wants his husband to feel like he's got everything he wanted. "You sure? I've got a nice sturdy step-stool and we've got 11 feet of ceiling to work with."

"I know." He throws Antony a smile. "We'll see, I'm sure the right tree will make itself known..." He hears voices ahead of them, a reminder that deserted as this place feels, it's still public.

"It'll call to you, will it?" Antony teases, thinking he's spied a decent one but a quick look at the backside nixes that.

"Uh huh," Stephen nods, taking a side step into the next row over. "You just know when you see the perfect one, right?" He upnods, "How about this one?"

"It looks good," Antony says, taking a walk around the tree Stephen's chosen, making sure there's no bald or dead spots. He squints at it but it looks as lush that way as it does with his eyes fully open. "This it then?" he asks, hefting the axe with a playful maniacal grin.

Stephen laughs at that. "Yeah, this is it." He backs up a few paces out of Antony's way.

Antony makes sure he has lots of room then sets to chopping down the tree. He cuts a good third of the way through on the one side and then hands the axe over to Stephen to do the other. That done, he quickly finishes from the first side, chopping harder than ever to make sure the tree doesn't break or split as it falls. But sure enough, they get a nice clean cut and finally they're standing there, staring at this huge fucking tree on the ground. He hands the axe to Stephen and ties the rope he brought around a sturdy branch near the middle of the tree. "You want to play caveman or should I do it?" he says, offering Stephen the rope.

Waving his free hand at the tree Stephen shakes his head. "Oh no, I'm just the husbandwife remember, this is a real man's job," he winks, his mouth quirking in amusement. "It's all yours."

Antony laughs. "I never said that," he protests, starting to lug the tree back to their car. "Just because I carried you across the threshold..."

"Amongst other things," Stephen adds with an amused huff, following his husband back in the direction of the car.

A guy about their own age comes out to meet them as they re-enter the car park. Turns out it's the same guy Antony talked to on the phone. He measures the tree, quotes them a price and Antony hands over the cash, taking advantage of Greg's offer to help him strap it to the roof. The tip tied to their front bumper with just enough room on each side of the windshield to see through they head back to the city. "We can get it set up and watered and go looking for lights and decorations if you want," Antony offers. "Grab something to eat while we're out?"

"Sounds like a plan," Stephen nods, fiddling with the stereo to find one playing Christmas tunes. "Doesn't it strike you this is all rather...domestic," he asks, straightening into his seat when he's settled on Bing Crosby crooning out 'White Christmas'.

"Isn't it supposed to be?" Antony asks with a smile.

Stephen's brow wrinkles a little. "Yes, kind of, but normally our domesticity is confined to the four walls of our home."

"That's true," Antony says, thinking about it for a moment. "But it's Christmas and I don't know about you, but ordering decorations and stuff online just isn't the same. Besides, you can be shopping and I'll be your security." Hopefully the paparazzi have better things to do anyway at this late date.

"No, of course we should do it properly," Stephen shuffles in his seat to face Antony a little more. "I just....I don't know, it feels different, whereas before hiding was my default, now I'm just assuming you're going to be there beside me. I can't help think that we must look like a couple to anyone with eyes."

"Probably but as long as we're not doing anything to confirm it, it's just speculation," Antony points out, glancing at Stephen.

Chewing on his bottom lip Stephen thinks on how he feels about that for a moment. "Yeah I guess," he agrees. "I need to go and see my people before we fly out anyway, I haven't told them yet."

"You're going to tell them?" Antony says, surprised. He likely shouldn't be, but for some reason he just assumed their marriage was being kept to them, their wedding guests and Cit management.

"Do you think I shouldn't?" Stephen had just assumed he should tell them, and hadn't given it any more thought. They're not going to like it, of that he's sure, but it's his life after all.

"No, of course not," Antony says, shaking his head. "I just didn't know you were going to. How do you think they'll react?"

"They won't like it. But they know you're just about the best guy I could have picked, you're not Hollywood, you're discreet and you're invested in keeping our relationship quiet." Stephen shrugs. "Maybe I shouldn't say anything, plausible deniability and all that? I don't know."

"It's probably better to have them working with us, and if it came out and they didn't know, they'd likely be pretty pissed," Antony says, glancing at Stephen again, the road ahead and behind them completely empty for the moment. "Just... tell them after Christmas, before we fly out."

"Okay." He's happy to be guided by Antony on this, and his husband is right, better to have them prepped just in case. Stephen looks down at his left hand and his wedding band, he'd actually wondered if he should take it off when they flew home, he knows how it can be when the press get a sniff of something and he hadn't wanted to risk anything so soon. In the end he'd shoved his hands in his pockets and kept his head down.

///

It had taken longer than Antony'd expected to get the tree upstairs, upright and watered in its place in the corner of the living room. He'd had to get the concierge to get the super to take down the ceiling grid in the elevator and then the tree had seemingly fought them every step of the way, but finally it's done, it looks amazing, and they're on their way to grab lights and decorations as planned. "You hungry yet?" Antony asks, yawning against the back of his hand as he slips the car into the newly vacated parking spot. "Or should we shop first?"

"I'm always hungry," Stephen points out, eyeing his husband as he yawns. "You okay?" It's not like Antony to tire so easily, even with all the travelling they've done in the last 2 days. "I'm not wearing you out, am I?" he teases.

"You might be," Antony teases back, locking the car and meeting Stephen on the sidewalk. It's cooler than it has been, but not overly so, the early evening air crisp and clean. "Sit-down or food truck?" he asks, thinking they'll be better off shopping with their stomachs full.

"Food truck." The choice is easy, it's quicker and there are plenty to choose from. "Lie in tomorrow?" he offers quietly.

Antony nods, lining up for burritos. "I have to meet up with Marcus for a few minutes at some point tomorrow but it won't take long."

"Why don't you guys go and do lunch? I can hit the gym for a while and catch up with some paperwork," Stephen shoves his hands in his pockets and hunches over a little.

"Okay. You want to go skating tomorrow night?" Antony asks, watching Stephen, wishing things - the world, the studios, people - would fucking change already.

"Then dinner?" Stephen looks hopeful, his smile for Antony alone.

"Definitely dinner. At the club?" Antony asks, giving his order as they reach the head of the line.

Stephen gives a small shrug. "If you like." He'd hoped to angle for a dinner date out, but maybe he's being overly optimistic, naive after a few weeks of being able to relax their guards down a little.

"Or we could stay out," Antony says, noting that shrug as they move over to wait for their food. "There's a place overlooking the rink and the square. You can see all the Christmas lights."

He's so tempted, but Stephen is also aware he's been pushing his luck recently. "No, the club is fine," he nods, leaning against the side of the food truck, his voice kept low.

Antony starts to say something then stops. The last thing Stephen needs is him complicating things. "Let me know if you change your mind," he says, gathering some napkins and straws for their drinks. "You want extra hot sauce?"

Taking a straw and napkin from his lover, Stephen shakes his head. "No, no thanks." He's a little pissed at himself for letting this get to him yet again. This is how it is, and on balance he's hugely lucky to have what he has as it is.

Food in hand, they find an empty bench in the small plaza between shops. Antony douses his food in hot sauce and takes a huge bite, his stomach rumbling in anticipation. "What do you want for lights?" he asks, deliberately steering them into clearer waters. "White, blue, coloured?"

"I don't know, coloured I guess, it's what we had when I was a kid, what do you think?" Stephen tucks into his own food with equal relish, his appetite rarely affected by his moods.

"I like coloured ones," Antony says. "White's okay too but blue's just weird. I also want tinsel and candy canes," he adds with a grin.

"Me too." It doesn't take much for Antony to make him smile again, one of the many, many reasons he's so enamoured of the man beside him. "I think tasteful is over rated at this time of the year," he bumps shoulders with his husband. "We're going to need a fuck tonne of ornaments."

Antony laughs. "Thank god we have somewhere to put them," he says, amused that storage had been the last thing on his list when he bought the condo.

"It's what you want too, right? All this Christmas stuff, it isn't just to indulge me is it?" Stephen asks over his burrito as he lifts it to his mouth for another bite.

"Let me put it this way," Antony says. "I wouldn't do it for myself, but getting to indulge you means getting to indulge me too." He grins.

"You do a lot of that," Stephen points out as he reaches up with his napkin to wipe a smear of sauce off the corner of Antony's mouth.

Antony smiles at the touch. "What? Indulge you?"

A nod, a half smile. "Yeah, you spoil me."

"I like spoiling you," Antony says, taking a sip from his drink. "It makes me happy. And I don't think you've had nearly enough spoiling in your life."

Stephen opens his mouth to point out he's had a perfectly good life, a great childhood, loving parents, a job he adores, but then he realises what Antony's getting at and he dips his head, suddenly a little more interested in the remains of his dinner.

"Does it bother you?" Antony asks, finishing the last of his burrito. "Me spoiling you?"

"Bother me?" Stephen thinks on that for a moment as he finishes his mouthful. "No... it doesn't bother me, it makes me uncomfortable sometimes, not massively, it just sits odd I guess. It's just not something I've had before, before you things were just... different." Before Antony his D/s relationships had seen him as a boy, a submissive and never as a partner or a lover.

Antony nods. "Well, you know I'm not trying to buy you - if I was, I would've told you how much I was worth a long time ago _and_ I'd be bringing home presents a lot more impressive than sand art," he says with a soft chuckle. "For me, we have the money, we love a lot of the same things, I like seeing you happy, so why not?"

"I adore my sand art!" Stephen laughs at that. In fact all his silly 'kitsch' presents Antony brings him back from his work trips are cherished, _because_ they are silly but thoughtful in their own way. He finishes up his burrito and wipes over his mouth. "Just...don't go buying me a diamond encrusted collar for Christmas okay?"

"I already got your presents and I promise they don't involve diamonds," Antony says, crossing his heart.

"Huh, and I'm kinda stuck what to get you, I had those pictures done for Christmas, but then we got married..." He's been thinking on it since before they flew home. "Maybe I should just put a gift bow on my ass huh? But then, I can't give you something you already possess so thoroughly."

"Who says you can't?" Antony grins, eyes crinkling. "I'd love your ass with a big bow on it."

"You love my ass period." Snorting softly Stephen shakes his head. "C'mon, we've a fuck tonne of decorations to buy and a tree to trash with them."

Still laughing, Antony dumps their wrappers in the nearest bin and they head for the first department store and its fifth floor Christmas section. "You want a visit with Santa?" Antony teases, looking through lights and trying to calculate exactly how many sets they need.

"I believe we're going to see him at home next Christmas hmm?" Stephen throws out as he wanders past, referring to their plan to celebrate their wedding anniversary in the Arctic Circle. "Anyway I'd have to be a good boy to get any gifts." He grins as a kid hurtles past him.

"You don't think you've been one?" Antony asks, amused, dumping eight sets of coloured LED lights in their basket.

"In his eyes? Or yours?" He stops at a display of ornaments and starts picking out ones he likes. The kid that just ran past him has come to a rather sudden halt and is eyeing Stephen with a bemused expression.

"Either. You been doing stuff I don't know about?" Antony teases, oblivious to the kid watching them, tinsel and candy canes added to their haul.

"I have no idea what you're implying, Antony," Stephen makes eye contact with the kid and winks at him, pretty sure he's been busted.

It's rare for Stephen to call him by his full first name these days and Antony looks up from the decorations to see the kid and the way he's looking at Stephen. The way he's _made_ Stephen. Shit. He takes a few steps away, busying himself in another aisle while Stephen gives the kid his autograph and talks to him about Arrow, a small crowd slowly growing around his husband.

Without needing to look, or even cast a glance, Stephen knows exactly where his husband is when he moves away. He smiles at the kid and engages him, spending the next 10 minutes scrawling autographs, gossiping about what 'Arrow' is doing and allowing a couple of photos too. Finally he excuses himself with a 'Merry Christmas' and a wave, moving over an aisle and making himself look busy with shopping.

"You're really good with them," Antony says, finally moving back in beside Stephen.

"I like kids, and I love the ones that are fans of the show," Stephen smiles as he adds more items to the basket Antony has.

"They seem pretty respectful," Antony says, which is nice. He's seen the fans from some shows. The ones who don't know how to recognize boundaries. "You okay with these?" he asks, showing Stephen the decorations he chose while Stephen was busy with the kids.

"Kids seem to be pretty cool, it's some of the older female fans that can get a bit full on sometimes." He peers into the basket and nods. "Yeah all good, did you find a star for the top yet?"

"I thought you'd want to choose it," Antony says, snagging another basket as they pass a stack, their first one filled to overflowing.

"No," Stephen shakes his head, taking the second basket of his lover. "I want _us_ to choose it."

"Okay," Antony nods, wishing he could kiss Stephen right now but the most they can get away with is a surreptitious brushing of fingers. They look through the tree toppers but nothing appeals so they finish choosing a few more ornaments then take what they've bought so far out to the car before heading to the Christmas store.

"This is more like it," he grins, stepping inside, the place crammed to the rafters with Christmas ornaments and decorations. "You want to get some stuff not for the tree too?"

"Don't we need stockings to put at the end of our bed?" Stephen bumps shoulders with a laugh, eyes scanning the multitudinous amount of decorations and colour laid out all around them.

"Sure, and mistletoe, and I like these nativity sets," Antony says, picking up a baby Jesus.

"Mistletoe is a given." Stephen's brows climb when he turns to look at the figure Antony has picked up. "You do? Then sure, pick one." He circles the display, picking up and putting down angels in various styles. His gaze flitting back up to watch his husband as he ponders which set he likes best. _He's mine, this gorgeous man, is mine._

"I'm torn," Antony says finally, grinning up at Stephen. "I like this one, but it's not terribly colourful. This other one's definitely got more pop to it."

"I like that one," Stephen nods at the more colourful of the two. "I don't see the point in super tasteful, it's Christmas, it should be loud."

Antony laughs. "That's what I figured," he says, letting the salesgirl behind him know he'll take that particular set. "So, stockings?" He nods at the wall covered with them. "You want your name on yours?"

"Yes, but I'm hoping I'll need a bigger one than that," Stephen's chuckling as he wanders over to pick one up and look it over. "I like the Nutcracker one, what about you?" He waves one at Antony, the side of which is decorated with a penguin.

"I like that one," Antony nods. "What are you expecting to find in your stocking? We always got little things - games and chocolate and stuff. All the big presents went under the tree."

"No, Mom used to like me to wake up to a pillowcase full, then even more under the tree," Stephen shrugs. "You want the penguin, or this?" He holds up one with a snowman.

"The penguin," Antony decides, "and I'll make sure I fill a pillowcase as well," he tells Stephen, taking a step away because he's certain the way he's looking at Stephen isn't fooling anyone. Christ.

Stephen drops his gaze to the stocking in his hand, he knows why Antony just turned away, he could see the look in his eyes. He busies himself in speaking to an assistant to get their names put on the relevant stockings before moving over to where Antony is perusing the tree toppers. "You okay?" he asks softly.

Antony nods. "Just trying not to give us away," he says, picking up a mirrored star for closer examination. He's not being completely honest with Stephen but this is the way things are for now and he's just gonna have to suck it up.

"I know it's hard," Stephen acknowledges, "trust me, I know." He eyes the star Antony's picked up, "I really like that," he adds softly. "It'll look amazing with all the lights."

"Yeah, it will," Antony says, nodding as he puts it back and finds a new unopened one to match on the shelves beneath. "We still need more ornaments," he points out. "Maybe we could get one with the year on it or just something special, you know, add one each year."

"I love that idea," Stephen smiles, though he can't help but feel that for Antony this trip has lost some of its fun. "C'mon, let's go grab some more decorations, then you can take me home via a donut place."

///

A box of donuts on the counter, every other available surface covered with boxes and bags of decorations, Antony stands, surveying it all and shaking his head. "It looks like we bought the fucking store out."

"We?" Stephen huffs out a laugh over the rim of his coffee mug. "I think you'll find you were the one throwing one of everything in the baskets," he teases. There's been a noticeable easing of some unnamed tension in his lover since they returned home, and for that Stephen is thankful.

"We didn't have anything to start with though," Antony protests, not minding the teasing at all. "Next year we'll just haul this stuff out and buy our one ornament, do our baking, get our tree," which is starting to sound like as much work as this year, "and we'll be done."

"Just?" Stephen rolls his eyes. He moves in beside his husband and slides an arm around his waist. "You know what tomorrow is?"

"What?" Antony asks, wrapping an arm around Stephen in return, grateful they can both touch each other again.

"Our one week anniversary," Stephen turns his head to brush the words along Antony's jawline. "Husband mine."

"One week," Antony smiles. "I like the sound of that. Husband mine too." He shifts, pulling Stephen in closer and kissing him. Loving the feel of his husband in his arms.

Stephen winds his arms around Antony's waist, pulling him in tight, hips to hips, chest to chest as he opens his mouth to Antony's. He can never have enough of this, even something so simple as kissing.

Antony licks into Stephen's mouth, their tongues tangling, groans as he tastes his lover, his cock, his body responding eagerly, instantly, as always.

There's a smile on Stephen's face even before he's finished kissing, he pulls back, planting one last kiss on Antony's mouth before shaking his head. "Uh huh, tree first, sex later," he murmurs. "I've a feeling once I have you in bed, there'll be no getting out of it again, not until morning."

Antony laughs. "You know me too well," he murmurs, giving Stephen's ass one last squeeze before he picks up a string of lights. "We need to test these all before we put them together."

"Okay," Stephen picks up a second set and moves across the room to another socket. "Do you want to put some music on while we do this?" he asks over his shoulder as he busies himself with the lights.

"Christmas music?" Antony asks.

"What else?" Stephen grins over the handful of wire and bulbs in is hand. "Something to sing along to."

The whole condo's wired for sound so it only takes a few swipes on his phone to call up some classic Christmas music. "There we go," Antony says, plucking a donut from the box. "But I don't sing."

"What never?" Stephen arches a brow at that, he likes to sing in the car when he's on his own, and he'll happily hum along to something that's on the radio if he's pottering around in the kitchen, but now he thinks on it...yeah he's never heard Antony sing. "Is your voice that bad?" he teases.

Antony laughs and shrugs. "Maybe," he breaks off a piece of donut and pops it into his mouth. "You can sing though."

"Is that an order, or an observation?" Satisfied that the lights in his hands work Stephen puts them to one side to try the next set, half an eye on his clearly amused lover.

"Observation," Antony says, popping another piece into his mouth. "You'd have to get me pissed off my face before I'd sing, and maybe not even then."

"That sounds like a challenge." A flick of the switch confirms set number two is in perfect working order also. "Are you really _that_ bad?"

Antony grins. "I'm not awful, but I'm not gonna win any awards anytime soon either," he says, picking up a couple of sets and testing them using another socket.

"Well it's a good job you're not entering any then isn't it?" Stephen rolls his eyes, "It's just you, me and Mariah." Stephen waves his hands in the air just as Ms Carey starts warbling out _'...I don't want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need...'_ "Though I agree thoroughly with her sentiment."

"Weren't you the one just telling me you needed a whole pillowcase of presents besides what's under the tree?" Antony teases, setting the two sets he's tested with the ones Stephen's done.

"Hey it's not my fault I'm becoming a spoiled brat now is it?" He throws Antony a wink as he steps past him for another box of lights and a donut of his own. "But now I have my own freaking plane..." Even saying it out loud like that doesn't stop Stephen having a moment of 'wtf?' about the subject.

"Which reminds me..." Antony says, replacing one bulb that's not working, "we can go see it tomorrow, or wait until after Christmas."

"What?" The question is spat out around a mouthful of sugared carbs. Stephen blinks at his husband. "Tomorrow?"

Antony nods. "I got a voicemail saying it's ready, but they're taking Christmas Eve through Boxing Day off."

Swallowing his mouthful of donut before he's really finished chewing it, Stephen's nodding. "Yes! Please?" Because fuck, this gift is still somewhat of an ephemeral concept, one that he's still struggling to rationalise fully. Stephen knows that only by seeing the jet will he get his head around it.

Antony smiles at Stephen's reaction. "We can go over after I get back from lunch with Marcus," he says, grabbing the step stool from the storage closet. "You want to do the honours?" he asks, setting the stool beside the tree, the first few sets of lights already connected.

Setting his half eaten snack aside Stephen sucks the sugar from his fingers, "Yeah, will you stand back and do the thing to make sure I get them even?"

"Sure. I'll feed them around the back and then check," Antony says, once again struck by the domesticity of it all as they work together on getting the top of the tree lighted up. It's strange how he doesn't mind it either, him, the guy who's always sought out adventure and intrigue and run on fucking adrenaline. _This_ is what he wants now. What seems more precious than anything else.

It doesn't take long before all the lights are on and they've started in on hanging decorations, Stephen pausing to go and grab a bottle of wine to open while they finish up. "Happy?" Stephen asks as he offers Antony a glass, his husband having paused to take a step back and eye up the tree.

"Ecstatic," Antony says, smiling at Stephen. "You?"

"What do you think?" Stephen eyes his lover over the top of his glass as he takes a drink.

"I don't know. You're always so hard to read," Antony teases, picking up another ornament.

"Yeah, right!" Stephen huffs out a laugh at that. He set his glass aside and joins Antony with hanging more of the pretty decorations.

"Do we get to eat the candy canes when we take the tree down, or are these just for show?" Antony asks, tearing open the box. In all things Christmas, he's deferring to Stephen.

"When we take the tree down." Stephen is vastly amused. "If I can wait that long," he adds with a mischievous wink.

"Hey. No molesting the tree until Boxing Day," Antony says, tickling Stephen's ribs as he moves around him to place a few more candy canes.

"Yes Sir!" The words gasped out as Stephen wriggles out of the way of Antony's fingers. "I will not indulge in any molesting," he adds nodding in mock solemnity.

"Of the tree," Antony repeats, quite enjoying himself.

"Oh! So other molestation is permitted? I see," Stephen moves around out of Antony's immediate reach, his blue eyes dancing with laughter. "What _kind_ of molestation is permitted then? And to what or whom?"

"Me." Antony grins. "You can molest me all you want," he says, unwrapping a couple more ornaments.

"I can? _All_ I want?" Stephen arches a brow as he leans around the tree. "And what kind of molestation might you prefer hmm?"

"Kissing, touching, your hands and mouth on me," Antony says, looking for gaps in their decorating so far.

"You get that all the time," Stephen points out, setting a small glass snowflake on a branch near the top.

"Yeah, but I want extra," Antony says with a soft laugh.

"You haven't had that in the last week? I've hardly kept my hands to myself since we got married." He moves past his lover for another box of ornaments, and gives Antony's butt a quick squeeze. "See!"

Antony laughs. He puts down the ornament still in his hand and moves to wrap his arms around Stephen from behind, kissing the back of his lover's neck, just above his collar. "You really think there's such a thing as enough for me when it comes to you?"

"I hope not." Setting down the box, he covers Antony's hands with his and turns his head. "I hope you never have enough of me, or us."

"I wouldn't have married you if I wasn't certain we'd spend the rest of our lives together," Antony says, kissing the corner of Stephen's mouth. " _And_ still be this hot for each other."

"I love that, your certainty in us, in me." It's one of the things that got Stephen through the early months of his relationship with Antony, his lover's certainty in them had over ridden all of Stephen's concerns, worries, all the hang ups left behind by previous relationships. By Cam in particular.

"You must have had some kind of gut feeling," Antony murmurs, kissing along the curve of Stephen's jaw. "You asked me to be your sir."

Eyes slipping shut, Stephen leans back into the solidity of Antony's body. "I don't know what that was, I'd been so lonely," he pauses, an unpleasant echo of that making his breath catch. "...and then you were there, and the way you looked at me, even that early on, you saw _me_ and I had to try, I had to see if someone would want me, despite what I'd been told." It's not often Stephen articulates quite so clearly his emotional state when they'd met, or to speak of the damage done to his self esteem.

"And all I could see was this amazing man, this incredible boy," Antony says softly, "who responded to me so perfectly, whose wants and needs meshed so fucking completely with my own."

"You didn't hesitate did you?" Stephen's voice is thick with emotion, of remembered pain and present happiness. "When I asked you, not then, not when I asked you to marry me."

"Not for a second," Antony says, tightening his hold on Stephen. "I just knew this was right - that _we_ were right."

"I love you, for all the things we are, for all the things you've given me, all the love and the laughter, for a home, for a place in your bed and at your feet, for being the anchor and strength I needed, for being you."

Antony's throat closes up and his chest goes tight. He can feel tears pricking at the back of his lids and he blinks them away, his mouth pressed to Stephen's, pouring everything he feels for this man, his husband, into the kiss.

Barely breaking contact, Stephen manages to turn, he winds his arms around Antony and presses close, eyes closed as he loses himself in the simple act of kissing. Of kissing the man he loves more than anything. Finally he breaks free, his breathing a little off, though this time it's more to do with emotion than arousal.

"We'd better finish the tree before I get distracted," Antony murmurs, smiling, staring into Stephen's eyes.

"I thought you already were," Stephen lets his hands move down the outside of Antony's arms, a stroking, petting gesture.

"Three quarters," Antony teases, his body reacting as it always does to Stephen's closeness, to his touch. "One quarter's still thinking tree."

"As much as that?" Pulling a face Stephen steps back, letting go of his lover. "Then I guess we should finish up huh?" He gifts Antony a smile and picks up the box he'd selected earlier.

///

The star finally set into place, they turn on the lights and stand back to check it out. "What do you think?" Antony asks, because it's Stephen's opinion that matters.

It's been a long haul, getting the tree in the apartment, buying all the decorations, getting them all on and set perfectly, but fuck, it was worth it. Stephen takes a moment, he nods, the twinkling of the lights reflected in his eyes. "I think it's the most perfect tree I've ever seen."

"Good. Get in front and let me take your picture," Antony says, pulling his cellphone from his back pocket.

Wine glass in hand Stephen moves to stand just beside the tree, he glances up at it, noting the one ornament they picked that has the year printed on it. _'The first of many',_ Antony had promised him, the corner of his mouth lifts and he glances over at his husband.

"Gorgeous," Antony says, taking one picture and then another before he steps in beside Stephen and takes a couple of them with the tree. "Are we trying to get everything in its place or is that enough for tonight?"

"That's enough," Stephen's tired, and his focus is slowly but surely narrowing in on Antony. Right now all he can think about is the feel of the cotton of his lover's shirt as it sits over warm skin, the soft fabric shifting beneath his fingertips where his hand rests on Antony's hip. "I'm going to shower and hit bed, I'll finish up while you're out tomorrow."

"You tired?" Antony asks. He was, earlier, but now given the choice between bed and his boy...

"Yeah," Stephen nods, leaning in he nuzzles along Antony's jawline. "But not wiped out totally."

Antony smiles. "You want company in the shower or should I meet you in bed?"

"Meet me in bed." He tugs free of Antony's embrace and gives his lover a smile as he heads toward the main bathroom. Once there he takes the time to piss, shower and brush his teeth. Smiling at himself in the vanity mirror. _Today...has been pretty fucking perfect._ And that, has been a refrain he's been repeating daily since his wedding day.

Antony tidies a little, stacking boxes, putting away donuts and moving glasses to the sink. He washes up in the other bathroom and slips into bed, taking a few minutes to check his emails, confirming lunch with Marcus for the next day. Things have been quiet during their honeymoon, their security detail having nothing to report, and Antony's hopeful it's all died down finally.

Stephen pads into the bedroom, the only light is the one on beside Antony, and he slides in beside his husband. "Put your phone away," he admonishes softly. "Marcus can take care of things."

"I was just confirming lunch," Antony tells him, but sure enough, he turns his phone to silent and sets it facedown on the bedside table.

Slipping further down the bed, Stephen settles in, one arm flung above his head, resting on the pillow. He looks over at the newly hung pictures, the ones he gifted Antony as a wedding present, a small private smile curving his mouth.

"They look amazing," Antony says, turning on his side to face Stephen, one hand laid on his stomach.

"I look good huh?" Not a naturally vain man, Stephen rarely spends much time looking at images of himself, but these... these were special, and he's inordinately proud of how he looks. "They were my ideas, the concept I mean, and we had so much fun shooting them, those fucking boots kept giving me a hard on, and we didn't want the pictures to be about my dick... there was a lot of laughing, and a lot of teasing."

"I can imagine," Antony says, fingers playing over Stephen's skin as he turns his head to take them in. "I'd be hard-pressed to choose a favourite."

"You don't need to." He glances at Antony, smiling at the expression on his lover's face. "You have them, you have me, husband, lover, boy, slave..."

"Lucky me," Antony murmurs, smiling at Stephen, his fingers stroking lower, not a trace of teasing or humour in his voice. As far as he's concerned, he's the luckiest man on Earth.

Sucking in a breath, lower lip caught between his teeth, Stephen holds Antony's gaze as the muscles in his belly dance beneath feather-light caresses. Goosebumps boom over his skin and his cock stirs beneath the covers, responding predictably to his lover's touch.

Antony leans in, flicking his tongue across the nipple closest to him, his fingers sweeping below the covers, teasing so close to Stephen's hardening cock.

Bringing his arm down from above his head, Stephen draws his fingertips along Antony's back, up between his shoulder blades over his nape to settle in the short dark crop of his husband's hair. "Tony..." he whispers softly, almost certain that his is his husband that's arousing him and not his Sir.

"I can mark you now," Antony murmurs, biting lightly at the same nipple. No family to ask questions, no work to be careful for, weeks stretched out before them with no one to account to.

"Mark me?" Stephen's backside has only just lost the bruising from their wedding night, the healing exacerbated somewhat by a long day on a bicycle saddle, and before that he still had marks from their heavy scene, it seems it's been weeks since he was this unblemished. "I wear your collar, your wedding ring, metal in my cock and this," he pushes down the covers to rub his fingers over the faint, but still visible 'A' Antony had cut into his hip. "Am I not marked enough my darling man?"

Antony glances up at Stephen and grinning, shakes his head. "I want to bite you."

Huffing out an amused noise, Stephen gives a little shake of his head. "And there was me thinking this was my husband loving me, not my Sir claiming me," he smiles as he rubs his fingertips over Antony's head.

"I can wait if you want," Antony offers, the option not always one he'd give Stephen but it feels like tonight he should. He licks over the nipple again, fingers finally brushing his husband's cock.

It's an unexpected offer, and one Stephen accepts. "Yes, please, I'm tired, and I'd rather be on my knees for that." He's not meaning literally, more that he'd rather be 'boy' and in that attendant head space, all the better to revel in the pain of it. "Tonight it will simply hurt."

"Okay." Antony nods and shifts up, pressing a kiss to Stephen's mouth as he wraps his fingers around his lover's cock, stroking slowly.

It's a struggle to kiss when you're groaning and your breath is hitching as your partner strokes you off, but Stephen tries, his sounds swallowed up by Antony's mouth. His own hand slips down, seeking the rigid damp flesh of Antony's erection until they writhe together in a dance of mutual pleasure.

"Oh, fuck," Antony murmurs, rocking his hips, his cock speared through the circle of Stephen's fingers, his own grip tightening, urging Stephen towards completion. "Yeah. Like that."

"I know, I know," Stephen groans, biting at Antony's lower lip. "Cum on me, on my skin, please..." he whimpers as his own body shudders, so fucking close, "Please..."

Antony's breath catches hard, that whimper, those words, going straight to his cock. His hips stutter and he groans, cursing roughly as his climax hits, his cock spurting hot and thick, painting Stephen's skin.

It's almost enough to push Stephen over the precipice too, that he got Antony so hot, so quickly. The scent of fresh semen fills his nose and he makes for another bite at his lover's shoulder, anything to help him hang on to his control, anything to ensure he waits until he has permission.

"What about you?" Antony whispers fiercely, hand roughly working Stephen's cock. "You gonna come on me?"

Stephen takes _that_ as permission, the growled words hit him like a gut punch and even before the next breath his body goes rigid and he spills over Antony's wicked hand, spattering the hair dusted skin of his belly. He keens into the meat of his lover's shoulder, eyes screwed shut.

Fuck yeah. Antony groans, cock throbbing, the wet heat of his lover's come on his fingers, his skin, _almost_ as good as his own orgasm. "I love you so much," he murmurs.


End file.
